


Gossip Requited

by prhood



Category: Pride and Prejudice (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:37:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prhood/pseuds/prhood
Summary: Elizabeth chooses, after returning from Hunsford, not to remain silent about Wickham's dissolute behaviour.





	Gossip Requited

_She (Elizabeth) then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as far as they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane! who would willingly gone through the world without believing so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual. Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 40.,/i._

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“How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they do appear wholly undeserved.” said Miss Bennet to her sister, Elizabeth.

“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is one point, on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I ought, or ought not to make our acquaintance in general understand Wickham’s character.” 

Miss Bennet paused a little and then replied, “Surely there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?” 

“My initial thought was that it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorised me to make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular relative to his sister, was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself. I had thought to endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct, but was concerned that no one would believe me. The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton, to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to that; however, I recollect from Mr. Darcy’s letter that Wickham left many debts behind when he last visited Lambton. Wickham will soon be gone; and I would not have the shopkeepers of Meryton suffer a similar fate when it is within my power to prevent it.”

Jane was silent as she pondered her sister’s response. That she was not resolved to such a course of action was evident from her demeanour and reply.

“But to have his errors made public might ruin him forever! He is now perhaps sorry for what he has done, and anxious to re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.”

Elizabeth shook her head slowly. She had not expected Jane to wish to act against anyone, even if the cause warranted it. Her nature was to see only the best in everyone. Unfortunately, in this case a failure to act would likely cause more harm than good.

“I believe, Jane,” said Elizabeth, “that had Wickham sought to re-establish his character, he would not have slandered Mr. Darcy. For it was done, knowingly and wilfully. What could he have hoped to achieve by it? It was not the work of an honourable or honest man. Surely you can see this?”

Jane’s assent was given reluctantly and hesitantly. Elizabeth could see her sister’s struggle to admit to a sadly deficient character in one with whom she was acquainted.

“Moreover,” added Elizabeth, “if Mr. Wickham has amended his character, there shall be no debts incurred and thus he need not fear disclosure.”

Elizabeth rather doubted this to be the case but her sister’s unwillingness to accept misbehaviour in anyone required all the counter-arguments possible. 

“But how shall it be accomplished? You surely cannot reference Mr. Darcy’s letter, else our father will demand to see its entirety.” Said Jane.

Elizabeth had no wish to allow anyone to read Darcy’s letter, for it would expose his sister’s attempted elopement with Wickham and that she was bound to secrecy. As well, there was the matter of Mr. Darcy’s offer of marriage to Elizabeth and her rejection of it. That she most certainly wished not to disclose. In addition, she had not revealed to Jane his role in separating her from Mr. Bingley. There was no point to doing so. After several minutes of deliberation, she said, “Mr. Darcy offered Colonel Fitzwilliam as surety for all his revelations. I may, therefore, safely claim him as the source of the information.” 

She chuckled and added, “And as he is a colonel, I am sure his words will not be disputed by our sisters or mother. I may suffer some rebuke from mama for my failure to secure him but I suppose I may defend myself by stating the colonel’s claim of needing a wife possessed of a fortune.”

Some time later, Elizabeth entered the parlour to find her mother sitting with all her other daughters. It was, she believed, the opportune moment. Taking the chair nearest her mother, she directed her initial comment to Jane.

“Did I mention that while visiting Charlotte, I was introduced to Lady Catherine’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

Jane looked appropriately surprised and disclaimed any such knowledge. Mrs. Bennet could not allow such information to pass without comment.

“I do not recollect your mentioning him in your letters, Lizzy. He is Lady Catherine’s nephew, is he? Did his wife accompany him? I suppose he must be a favourite of hers?”

“Is he handsome, Lizzy” blurted Lydia.

“Not so very much, perhaps, though I found him very agreeable and amiable.”

Mrs. Bennet huffed at such irrelevancies. “Is he married, Lizzy?”

“He is not; however, his aunt has spoken of a possible match between her nephew and her daughter.”

“Oh!” said Mrs. Bennet. Her countenance assumed such a lugubrious expression that Elizabeth was required to mask a snort of laughter with a cough.

“Yes!” said she, “And …”

“Is he in the regulars?”

“I believe so, Lydia.”

“How old is the colonel” asked Mrs. Bennet. Upon Elizabeth imparting the information that he was about thirty, Mrs. Bennet inquired further into Miss de Bourgh’s age. Learning that Elizabeth thought her to be about five and twenty, Mrs. Bennet snorted inelegantly.

“I dare say the colonel would have proposed by this time had he intended to do so. I suppose you put him off with your impertinence, Lizzy. Just like you did with Mr. Collins.”

“Colonel Fitzwilliam and I had a number of very pleasant conversations. He is a most proper gentleman and, I believe, attempted to ensure that I had no expectations with regards to him.”

At her mother’s puzzled expression, she elaborated.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam gave me to understand that he must marry with his wife’s fortune in mind.”

Mrs. Bennet huffed in exasperation once more. “A gentleman will put thoughts of fortune aside if a woman used her arts properly. You should have used those talks with him to make him fall in love with you.”

“I believe had I even a modest fortune, the colonel might have considered me; but as he made it quite clear, he has not the freedom to be imprudent in selecting a wife. However, there is one matter of some consequence which he disclosed to me.”

Jane obligingly prompted her to elaborate.

“I happened to mention Mr. Wickham’s name to Colonel Fitzwilliam, knowing that they must be acquainted as the colonel is Mr. Darcy’s cousin.”

“Mr. Wickham!” said Lydia, whose attention had hitherto been engaged in a whispering conference with Kitty. Obviously, she had not been oblivious to the other conversation taking place and the mention of Wickham had captured her interest. 

“Yes.” Replied her sister. “Colonel Fitzwilliam knows Mr. Wickham very well, and was most concerned to learn that we were acquainted with him. I assured him that Mr. Wickham had joined the militia and had been quartered amongst us for almost a half year. Colonel Fitzwilliam was greatly surprised when I imparted the information that he was a great favourite in Meryton society.”

Jane continued her role of able assistant, asking, “Why was the colonel both concerned and surprised, Lizzy?” 

“Colonel Fitzwilliam did not think well of Mr. Wickham due to his familiarity with his character.”

“Of what does he accuse Mr. Wickham?” interrupted her mother. 

Before Elizabeth could reply, an event occurred which ultimately proved fortuitous, although its first consequence was a frustration of her immediate object. A visitor was announced. Her aunt Philips, who called at Longbourn with some regularity, and having learned that her two eldest nieces had returned home, had chosen this morning to do so once more. She could be satisfied with nothing less than being informed of all that they had done during their absence, commiserated with her sister that Jane had failed to meet Mr. Bingley during her sojourn in town, queried Elizabeth exhaustively on the glories of Rosings Park and could only be satisfied to learn that the chimney piece which Mr. Collins had spoken of so warmly was worthy of the praise he had bestowed on it. Elizabeth was, unfortunately, unable to confirm that her aunt Philips’ drawing room rivalled the small breakfast parlour at Rosings.

“I was not afforded the privilege of viewing the room, Aunt, so I cannot say.” Replied Elizabeth. “However, the furniture and fixtures at Rosings are particularly . . . fine. I am sure that the comparison is not inaccurate.”

Mrs. Philips was gratified at such knowledge and was contemplating the compliment when her sister, who hitherto had listened with ill-concealed impatience, interjected.

“Yes! Yes! Rosings is very fine, I am sure. And Charlotte Collins is probably considering how she will change Longbourn when Mr. Bennet dies and I’m thrown into the hedgerows.” Mrs. Bennet’s accompanying glare at Elizabeth made clear who she believed responsible for her unhappy future situationfate. “But I would have Lizzy explain her comments on Mr. Wickham, for you know, sister, she has said a Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was visiting Rosings Park, has spoken ill of him. Lizzy claims she could not have attached him, though I do not believe she made any effort to do so. I don’t know who she expects to care for her when her father is dead, for I shall surely not. Though, now I think on it, perhaps he would not be so suitable since he does not hold Mr. Wickham in any esteem.” 

While Mrs. Philips shared her sister’s views on Elizabeth’s failure to accept Mr. Collins’ offer, she was disinclined to waste further time on that subject when a new and potentially more interesting one was laid before her. She and Mrs. Bennet were alike in one respect. They both found a great deal of pleasure in sharing information about their neighbours with all those possessed of a similar inclination. It was thus essential to explain to Mrs. Philips that Colonel Fitzwilliam was Lady Catherine’s nephew and had visited her during Elizabeth’s own stay with the Collinses.

“Why” she queried, “does this Colonel Fitzwilliam dislike Mr. Wickham? How does he know of him?” 

She leaned forward as to encourage Elizabeth to speak. Elizabeth repeated, for her aunt’s understanding, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s connection to Lady Catherine and Mr. Darcy, assuring her aunt that the gentleman was a close confidante of the latter and privy to most of his concerns.

“And what does he say of Mr. Wickham, Lizzy?”

“I do not believe we can credit anything said by a relative of Mr. Darcy!” interrupted Lydia. Her sister, Kitty, promptly, as was her wont, expressed her agreement, adding, “Such a disagreeable man! And Mr. Wickham is everything handsome and charming.”

Mrs. Bennet and her sister nodded in agreement; however, the latter remained curious as to the circumstances and the particulars of the colonel’s revelations, and pressed her niece to explain the matter more fully. Elizabeth was not loath to do so.

“You must understand,” she said, “that I could not tax Colonel Fitzwilliam with the details of the injury that Mr. Wickham claims to have suffered at the hands of Mr. Darcy. They are cousins, after all, and quite close, I understand. Nonetheless, when I mentioned that Mr. Wickham had joined the _____shire Militia, the colonel expressed his relief that he had found gainful employment after refusing to accept the living Mr. Darcy offered him.”

There was a prolonged silence at this disclosure, until broken when Lydia cried out, “Impossible! Mr. Darcy denied him the living! Mr. Wickham said as much to me and others. And to you, Lizzy! You have always been very friendly with Mr. Wickham.”

“Perhaps I was, Lydia; however, when I taxed the colonel on the matter, he was quite firm that Mr. Wickham had received compensation in lieu of the living, claiming to be fully aware of the details as he was one of the executors of the late Mr. Darcy’s will.”

Mrs. Philips nodded knowingly, “As he would in such a position. But how can it be that Mr. Wickham would so mislead us?”

“As to that I cannot answer, Aunt.” Replied Elizabeth. “Mr. Wickham’s motives are beyond my comprehension in this instance. However,” she paused for effect which proved quite successful, for both her mother and aunt pressed her eagerly to continue.

“However,” she continued, “Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, I understand, commands a regiment of the Coldstream Guards and has been mentioned in dispatches, expressed some concern about Mr. Wickham’s habit of failing to pay his accounts with shopkeepers. He informed me that Mr. Darcy was required to settle Mr. Wickham’s debts in Lambton after the death of old Mr. Darcy.” 

Elizabeth knew the colonel’s position, but whether he had ever been noted in a dispatch, she had not the faintest idea (But was certain her mother’s esteem would rise given that the colonel might be so honoured). However, she knew for a certainty that her aunt was excessively sensitive to the matter of settling one’s accounts. Should the shopkeepers of Meryton learn that Mrs. Philips had been privy to information which might have prevented the incurrence of losses, she would not be in good odour with them, and, more particularly, not with their wives. 

Mrs. Philips was at once roused to concern. “Accounts not settled, you say? And do you know how much?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Surely,” she replied, “the shopkeepers would not have been excessively unhappy unless the amounts were of some significance?” 

It was a rhetorical question, but one that Mrs. Philips was inclined to belabour for some minutes, drawing her sister into her musings and imbuing the matter with a great many excited exclamations. Lydia, who listened to it all with poorly concealed disbelief, finally gave expression to her feelings.

“I do not believe a word of it. It is all a hum. Mr. Darcy has used Mr. Wickham very poorly and this Colonel Fitzwilliam is doing nothing more than falling in line with his cousin.”

“Colonel Fitzwilliam is an officer in the regulars.” Said Mrs. Bennet uncertainly but sure that a senior officer of such eminence could not be anything but trustworthy. Further support for this opinion was quickly offered.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam is also” declared Elizabeth, “the son of an earl. I am quite prepared to accept his version of events. I repeat, for your understanding, Lydia: the colonel was an executor of old Mr. Darcy’s will. He must of necessity be acquainted with all these particulars. If we must choose between the words of the two men, I have no hesitation in accepting the colonel’s version of events.”

Mrs. Philips nodded knowingly. “Indeed, we must, for Mr. Philips has acted as an executor on more than a few occasions and he is most particular in ensuring things are done properly. I can see no reason not to accept Colonel Fitzwilliam’s words.”

“Then,” said Mrs. Bennet, deferring to her sister’s opinion, “Mr. Wickham may well pose a danger to shopkeepers in Meryton.”

“Indeed, he may!” replied her sister.

“And,” said Elizabeth, hoping to enlist her mother’s support in discouraging Kitty and Lydia’s interest in Mr. Wickham, “A man whose character is so deficient as to incur such debts, is hardly one whose company we should accept, no matter how handsome he may be.” 

Mrs. Bennet looked confused for several moments as she attempted to understand that Mr. Wickham’s poor character made him undesirable. Elizabeth could see that Lydia was about to express her disagreement with such a conclusion when Jane, bless her heart, offered the killing blow.

“If Mr. Wickham,” said she, “cannot afford to pay his accounts with shopkeepers, how is he to be able to support a wife?”

Lydia’s lips clamped shut, and Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips nodded slowly and then more quickly as the sense of Jane’s question percolated through their understanding. It was not a rapid process but within a minute or two both ladies had affirmed their intention of ensuring that Mr. Wickham would no longer be invited into their homes. 

Mary, a silent witness to all of these proceedings, now discovered something she thought a valuable contribution.

“A woman’s reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful, and it cannot be too much guarded in her behaviour to the undeserving of the other sex.”

Lydia huffed; Kitty looked confused; Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth to advise to Mary to cease her pointless comments, but closed it upon further reflection – struck, perhaps, at the aptness of her daughter’s statement; and, Jane and Elizabeth smiled. For once, their middle sister had spoken timely and truly. 

“Thank you, Mary.” Said Jane, “I quite agree.”

Mary’s astonishment at being so praised rendered her silent. Mrs. Bennet, however, had found her voice.

“You are quite exact in what you say, Mary. Our reputations will be damaged if we welcome Mr. Wickham into our company.”

“But…”

“No, Lydia. I will not allow it. You must avoid Mr. Wickham from now on.”

“I shall not! I do not believe he is as you all have determined him to be. I shall….”

“You shall be confined to Longbourn, if you will not obey.” Said her mother with uncharacteristic firmness. “I shall not allow you to ruin the reputations of your sisters.”

Mrs. Philips nodded vehemently as she rose to make her departure. She had much news to impart in Meryton and she was eager to be about her business. Mrs. Bennet, who wished to join in her sister in that endeavour, was, however, required to defer the pleasure. Her youngest daughter had not taken her last strictures with quiet obedience. Lydia, who had always been indulged by her mother, was quite unprepared to accept the restriction imposed upon her; and Mrs. Bennet, who had hitherto never restrained her youngest daughter, now faced the unpleasant duty of doing so. She looked to her two eldest daughters for their support and was pleasantly surprised to find them both eager and willing to assist her.

Mary, who always wished to find some useful expression to demonstrate the staunchness of her character, found for the second time that day, one appropriate to the occasion.

“Spare the rod,” said she, “and spoil the child.”

“Thank you, Mary!” said Jane and Elizabeth, in one voice. 

Lydia’s displeasure did not abate and, strangely, Mrs. Bennet’s resolve to immure her within Longbourn’s walls, though occasionally wavering, had remained firm. Thus, for two days she and her daughters had remained oblivious to what was taking place in Meryton. Their ignorance was alleviated by Mrs. Philips who arrived in full-feather, ready and eager to impart momentous news.

“Sister!” she cried before even settling her ample posterior in her usual chair. “What goings on in Meryton! Mr. Wickham must be the wickedest young man in the world.”

Mrs. Bennet demanded to know of what her sister was speaking. Mrs. Philips was not loath to oblige her.

“He is in debt to every tradesman in Meryton. And Sister…” Mrs. Philips cast a wary eye upon her nieces, of whom only Lydia was absent, and lowered her voice as if to impart that which was too delicate for their ears. That her lowered voice could easily be heard throughout the room, did not hinder her in the least.

“Yes?” prompted Mrs. Bennet.

“Not only debts, Sister.” Replied Mrs. Philips, “but intrigues! seductions! Not a tradesman’s family has not been trifled with.”

“Oh, Sister!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, “Say it is not so!” she paused momentarily before continuing, “I have always distrusted his appearance of goodness, you know. Everyone thought him an angel of light, but I was always suspicious.”

Mrs. Philips nodded knowingly. Jane and Elizabeth coughed in an effort to control their mirth. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above half of what was attributed to Wickham, was far from unhappy at the success of her efforts.

“What,” she inquired, “has been done with Mr. Wickham?”

Mrs. Philips sniffed. “He apparently learned that Colonel Forster intended to have him confined to quarters and chose to leave, resigning his commission. The Colonel and the other officers are very unhappy, for it seems they might be required to cover Mr. Wickham’s debts.”

“A cause for unhappiness to be sure” said Elizabeth.

“And it is certain that Mr. Wickham has departed?” asked Jane.

Mrs. Philips gave her assurance.

“We are not likely to see that scoundrel again” added Mrs. Bennet, with no small degree of satisfaction.

Elizabeth’s satisfaction at having disposed of George Wickham was augmented some weeks later. The militia regiment was to remove to Brighton, there to undertake training exercises, and the loss of their society was felt in every household, but most strongly at Longbourn where Kitty and Lydia mourned the expected loss loudly and hourly. But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the Colonel of the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good humour and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of their three months’ acquaintance they had been intimate two. The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely to be described. Mrs. Bennet, who had only begun to forgive her youngest daughter for the want of sense displayed in her partiality for George Wickham, was ambivalent on the matter. Mr. Bennet was no less so; however, when Elizabeth reminded him of Lydia’s misguided understanding of Wickham’s character and that she had yet to acknowledge her error, he was persuaded that placing a foolish, fifteen-year-old girl into the care of one no wiser and scarcely older, was not a sensible decision. 

Lydia was not to go to Brighton. Her unhappiness was extreme and she made it known to all for some days thereafter. Elizabeth, who had the prospect of a trip with her aunt and uncle Gardiner, found she could bear her sister’s displeasure quite well.

And we shall leave her and her family to a happier future, of which I have no intention of disclosing, allowing my readers to arrive at whatever ending suits their fancy.

~~~~ Finis ~~~~


End file.
